Thank you all!

My nephew was here for Memorial Day. He showed me how to enter onto the Tad's blog. So here goes. Of course I confess, Tad did not pick up his writing ability from his parents.
Turi and I want to thank you all of you who wrote in the blog and told us how Tad touched your lives. These single expressions of love have undoubted helped us with our lost of Tad. From the short stories, videos, and and poems, they have all caused us to return almost daily to check to see if something new was on the blog.
Some of you know that Turi and I left a week after the funeral and traveled to Jackson Hole and visited the places where Tad traveled, slept, or ate at. Somehow we could feel Tad with us while we were there. We even climbed part way up Snow King until we ran into snow. Good excuse to quit for us old people.
Some of you may know that when we reached our motel in Jackson, we were given the room # 57 which was Tad's college football number. We knew the Lord lead us there to help with our healing.I couldn't speak when I found out and told Turi outside the motel. I will always remember how blessed we felt when that happened. Kai, thank you for showing Tad's "footprints" at Jackson.
The picture you see was something I wanted to do for him while Tad was working on the tractor in other fields. After the picture was taken, we made arrangements for Tad to view the field art from the air. Several weeks ago, we found this picture, and we agreed we saw something new in it. Look above the K-State print, and we see snowy mountains that he captured years later.
Tad did not particularly like to drive a tractor, but loved driving a combine. We spent many years combining together until he began his travels, Backgrounds and REI. Soon we will again start wheat cutting, and this will bring us many fond memories.
Several people wonder how we are coping and say they can't imagine what you are feeling. We say to them that if it were not for people like you who are reading the blog, calling us on the phone, and seeing us on the street, it would a lot more difficult. Like all of you, his parents agree with you how Tad has taught us more things in these past few weeks to live our lives more fully and and simply have fun.
We think of Tad as what was written in a card, "And we think of him as living in the hearts of those he touched... for nothing loved is ever lost... and he was loved so much."

Love and respect to all of you,

Al and Turi

1st Trip to Caldwell

I'm not sure how many people are still reading this blog (I look at it almost daily still). I came across this video the other day from my first trip down to Caldwell...city girl on a "real" tracker...who would have thought!

Backroads Story – Melanie Leavitt “Tad M”

I probably shouldn’t say this, but Tad was my very favorite new leader the year he was hired. And this was before I knew he was funny. He became my favorite because I gave everyone homework and Tad completed his first, filled things out thoroughly, and legibly (!), and then thanked me for training him. He had the most impeccable manners. I never got to spend much time with him, but he had a way of making an impression, and every interaction I had with him made me happy. Even when talking about something serious, you felt like he was just on the edge of making a little joke. I’m remembering him now from the last time I saw him… dancing slightly frantically at Tony and Soraya’s wedding with his big smile charming everyone, and his long limbs taking up half the space on the dance floor.

Backroads Story – Brain Pachtman “Short Muscles…Long Muscles”

I was so very lucky to be able to work with Tad for a while in Death Valley. So, picture Tad and I staying in a ridiculously crappy hotel room...and doing lunge twists throughout our stay together. He made fun of me every morning for being a "drug addict." (i.e. coffee drinker). I even remember us calling Tony one night and how he would call Lauren every night just to say hi. Everything he did was so heartfelt and genuine. Every word out of his mouth seemed to echo in my ears.

I still to this day question if the guests on our trip even knew our names. Being that Tad is quite a few inches taller than I am, the guests called us "long muscles" and "short muscles." And this is all because of the great energy that Tad brought to the trip. I thank you Tad for the all the great advice you gave me during that trip and how much fun I had with you.

You will be missed...by everyone you have ever met.

Nathan Clevenger “Adventures in Autobiography”

By request, here is Tad’s H&T autobiography (which Tony read yesterday):

I am honored to have been chosen as a possible profile for the Backroads web page. Devin and I finished a 3 night / 4 day Death Valley trip and rewarded ourselves with a night out in Vegas. Needless to say, I write to you slightly hungover (what do they put in those hurricane drinks?), the wallet a bit thinner, and laying in my deluxe mini-fullsize bed in Las Vegas's finest America's Best hotel room (41.99/night). But I digress.

Hopefully this is what you are looking for - I haven't taken the time to look at the webpage but am just going with my gut instinct and writing from the heart. Laugh, cry, ponder, but most of all, if you feel so inclined, share this profile with Nathan as I do miss him and think of him at least every other odd month.

"Living, Loving, and Learning - Backroads Style" - Not sure if you need a title for the profile but thought this would work nicely; just let me know.

"Who would of thought in two years a straight-laced, clean-cut, small-town Kansas farm boy could have assailed to such heights. As I tipsily stroll down "The Strip" filling my wallet with free night club / escort cards at 2ish AM looking for the guiding light of the neon "Hooters" sign indicating the general vicinity of my hotel I reflect on my tenure at Backroads and how grateful I am that I took a left instead of a right on the "Highway of Life".

What does Backroads mean to me? Simply put: M&M's. It feels good to wake up in the morning with that low-blood glucose shaking feeling and know that all I have to do to stop it is to stumble to any Backroads trailer to get my fix. That's reassurance no 401 K can provide.

Besides a lifetime supply of M&Ms, Backroads has allowed me a platform to showcase my true talent - talking. Each trip provides for me another captivated, or possibly the right word is "captive", audience in which I can do what comes naturally to me; talk. "I know this trip is about Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Park, but let me tell you a little about growing up on a farm in Kansas and what geothermal features and harvesting wheat have in common." - just one example how I segue into a mind-blowing/numbing self-interactive conversation with guests on trips. I know they love it!!!!

To conclude this personal, intimate, cut-beneath the skin "Backroads Profile," I hope this leaves you pondering, "Who hired this guy?"

Tad

Arash Bayatmakou “A Great Gathering”

A group of us met in Berkeley yesterday to talk, grieve, laugh, eat, share stories, and celebrate Tad's life. It was wonderful to learn about all the different ways in which Tad had touched each of us and the memories that he leaves with us, as he now rests in peace. I had always known how funny and charming he was in person but it wasn't until yesterday that I realized how brilliantly hilarious he could be in writing (see the Snakecharmer entry for an example).

Tad, it pains me to think of your suffering in the last year and how difficult it must have been for you, but you have left a smile lingering on my face that I will always have when thinking of you. Here's to 2 PB&J sandwiches my friend...

Michelle Sisson “Tad: The Musical”

Here's an updated version of the video we showed at Tad's gathering in Berkeley last Sunday.

http://vimeo.com/10903672

If you never had the chance to work, live, hike, do lunges and blast songs in the van -- well, here's your chance.

Backroads brought out the best in Tad. Thanks to everyone who shared photos and videos.

Hadley Robertson “Pause for Comfort”

We were on our way to FAM in Yellowstone National Park when our caravan suddenly stopped mid-trip at a gas station. It was apparently time for some stretching because the driver of Tad's vehicle had complained from back pain. I'm sure the station attendant and passer-bys wondered what we were all doing--circled up, stretching and following Tad's leadership on (yes L.I.) good posture and proper stretching technique to poractice then and always. It was a great reminder to stop what you're doing once in awhile and take care of yourself. Thanks for that reminder Tad!
We later followed a trail far into the backtrails of The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone again following Tad's leadership (and perserverance) on a wild hike to find a mysterious waterfall. We never found the said trail but we did create a memory by sticking with the hike through a 'snowing' situation. Again, thanks for the leadership Tad!

Eoin Canny “615 lbs of lean red meat”

December 07. A large contingent of 2nd year leaders were presearching on New Zealand's North Island. As part of our diligent prep, we visited the Zorb site near Rotorua. In case you're wondering, Zorbing involves climbing into a large plastic ball, pre-filled with 5 gallons of tepid water, before aiming oneself down a steep hill and praying for deliverance. After a little negotiation, the Kiwis decided to comp three leaders on a single downhill excursion. Someone thought it a good idea that the three largest, ungainliest leaders present should be the victims: cue Dan Shaw, Tad and I sliding into the aforementioned Zorb. If you'd care to imagine a washing machine on a rapid spin-cycle consisting of six elbows and six knees, then this was it. I think I broke 2 ribs on the descent. One comforting thought amidst the pain was the sound coming out of Tad: he was squealing in pleasure on the same pitch as a teenage girl at a Backstreet Boys concert. Manly man my arse. The momentum gained by all that meat meant that we broke through the employee brake people at the bottom, and almost went through the catchment fence. Those present claimed that the spectacle of us emerging from the Zorb afterwards was akin to that of a large translucent cow giving birth to very wet pink-skinned triplets.

Tad dude, I'll forever hear your girlish screams. Slan go foill (goodbye, but just for a little while).

Eoin

Final Letter...

Queenstown, New Zealand

Franz Josef Glacier, New Zealand

Dear Tad,

I've been thinking a lot the past few days, thinking if I had one more moment or one more day what would I have done differently, what would I have said. I know in times like these there are regrets and anger, there are more tears then you ever thought your body could possibly produce. I want you to know that although I have absolutely no control over the tears, I have no regrets either. I know that even though your time was short, you truly accomplished all your goals. You wanted to help people, you wanted to travel the world and you wanted to make people happy.

You've changed my life into something I never thought was possible. You taught e to live every day to the fullest and to live out my dreams. You taught me to explore, but stay true to my roots and myself. Your dreams were big, your personality was bigger and you loved with all your heart, but the wholesome qualities that lay underneath were from the small town you grew up in and the upbringing you experienced. You touched so many people and brought the best out in everyone.

I will always remember your construction paper creations, your email poems, and listening to you play the guitar. Our travels around the world, our first dance and your passion for music. I will alway remember that you were the "real" ping pong champion in the warehouse, that Daughtry and Nickleback are the only two bands that could hold a candle to Bon Jovi and that sanwiches should always come in pairs. Photos weren't meant to be serious, there is always and excuse to bring up the KU National Championship basketball game and that coffee is a drug...so get high on life, not on drugs. I will always remember your love for your family and friends, your zest for life and our unending search at every National Park to find the best "educational" game to bring home to Isa and Giani.

I will alway remember the way we would laugh together, dance as if no one was watching, and that every converstaion ended with a big smooch. I will always remember the way you looked deep into my eyes and touched my soul, the way you lived every day like it could have been your last, and the way you loved me.

You taught me that Miracle Whip made everything taste better, one should always carry sharpies and chap stick in their pocket, and how to take advantage of using the library. You taught me about farming, reach and balance and multi-directional lunges. That I had to learn the fundamentals of football as opposed to watching guys in tight pants, how to embrace every new experience with open arms and to eat with gusto.

If I had one more day, or one more moment...I wouldn't change a thing because knowing you these last few years, I have created some of my most lasting memories.

I loved being in love with you, loving you and being loved by you.

I promise, in time, I will continue to explore, to challenge myself and alway return my library books on time.

Peace, Love and Happiness,

Lauren

Moab, Utah

Cascade to Paint Brush Canyon, Wyoming

Cascade to Paint Brush Canyon, Wyoming

Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

Don't Quit

Tad read this poem to the graduated class of Caldwell HS during his valedictorian speech a few years ago. It seemed appropriate to share, as I'm sure we are all going through our own ups and downs right now.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and depts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is strange with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Dont' give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt.
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far.
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit,
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit!

Author - Unknown

Tackling's not just for football (March 2010-Keystone, CO)

First run of the day Keystone, CO March 2010

Thanks for not "pushing" Brent!

(Lt to Rt - Brent, Lauren, Tad, Shannon, Stewy, Missy, Greg, Julie, Kirt)

Never a serious moment (March 2010)